For Destruction, Ice
by Stray Sentinel
Summary: When a massive Grimm emerged from the depths of Remnant's seas many lives were lost, not the least the hundreds of hunters that fell to kill the beast. And it was not the last. Thus the founding of the Jaeger Initiative, the kingdoms banding together to forge great machines of metal and Dust, controlled by the best hunters humanity had to offer.


_When a massive Grimm emerged from the depths of Remnant's seas many lives were lost, not the least the hundreds of hunters that fell to kill the beast. And it was not the last. Thus the founding of the Jaeger Initiative, the kingdoms banding together to forge great machines of metal and Dust, controlled by the best hunters humanity had to offer._

 _Weiss was born too late to see the glory days. She has to work with what's left, and what's left is Signal Station, a handful of desperate deserters and the rustbucket mechs they pilot. She left home running - from the weight of her name, her father's disdain. Time will only tell what she's running towards. Perhaps she'll find it in the drift._

* * *

Ruby ducked behind her Jaeger's foot, pressing a hand hard against the metal to ground herself. She's early!

Weiss stood apart from the pit's bustle of activity with arms crossed and hip cocked, a shock of white against the grey-on-black, echoing space of the hangar. That sleek pencil skirt and suit jacket repelled even the idea of dirt. The Schnee logo was worked in ice blue thread on her back. A silk scarf was the only other splash of color, like a slash of scarlet around her throat.

A hand came up to smooth the elegant knot at the base of her neck, a hint of frustration marring the sharp features that until this moment Ruby thought she would only see splashed - immaculate and expressionless - across billboards in Vale. Her pale blue eyes raked across the hangar with all the intensity of a white-plumed bird of prey.

In her mind's eye Ruby saw the stark-white figure stalking down into the maintenance pit at the Jaeger's feet, finding her coated in filth from head to toe. The flutter of nervousness in her chest bloomed into something bordering on panic. This could not be the way they met. Even with her reputation for lacking social graces, the thought was embarrassing.

"Soooo, this is the runaway. Welcome to the rebellion, newbie."

Ruby peeked over Crescent's foot to catch sight of Yang slinging one long arm over Weiss' shoulder, sly grin unfaltering under a truly impressive glare. Weiss lifted her chin and drew herself up like a drawn bow, but her head was still only just even with the blonde's shoulder. Ruby caught the way her eyes dropped and suddenly looked anywhere but at Yang, the flush on her cheeks obvious even at this distance.

Beacon didn't make pretensions to being a military organization, and pilots rarely wore regulation uniform. So Yang's "natural gifts" were on prominent display, framed by the custom bomber jacket that ate up a couple of her paychecks. Or as she called it, the "bombshell jacket".

Yang's eyes flicked to her hiding place, a slow grin spreading across her features.

"How about you lemme show you to the mess hall? It's too damn cold out here with you dressed like that, an' you don't want to catch cold waiting for your new partner, do you?"

The fact that Yang was in shorts and a tank top did not escape Weiss – her eyes narrowed, stance shifted – but the heiress merely nodded sharply, shrugging Yang off with a smooth motion. Ruby let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and slumped against Crescent, the metal warm and comforting under her cheek. Dodged a bullet for now.

She rolled over and gazed up at the metallic titan. Ruby knew these sleek lines by heart, but tracing them with her eyes made her muscles relax.

"What do you think, sweetheart?"

Some would say it was just her imagination, but she detected a change in Crescent's low hum.

* * *

"So we were right there in the middle of this huge hurricane, and this ursa-class kaiju – Typhoon, I think – starts going for the harbor and…"

Weiss picked her food, lip curling at the thought of putting the limp vegetables and deep-fried meat anywhere near her mouth.

The pilot assured her that her potential partner would be here soon, but the tables were steadily emptying and still the girl hadn't managed to show her face. She snorted inwardly. Honestly she couldn't say she was surprised. What could she possibly want with a child? Staggering kill-count or not, this lack of professionalism didn't bode well.

Perhaps she was expecting too much. This was a den of criminals, terrorists, murderers and thieves, after all.

When her father announced the Schnee Wall project, deserters flooded to the abandoned hunter school "Signal" on Patch Island just off the coast of Vale. Which was just as well, since the military-run Jaeger project was shut down not long after the first dust-field generators were installed. The city lights flickered out one by one, until entire city blocks were devoid of life.

She stabbed at the 'meat' on her plate more violently than necessary, earning a glare from Yang's partner. Weiss glared right back until the silent, dark-haired girl rolled her eyes and returned to her book.

Compatible auras were only one aspect of a successful drift, but Weiss couldn't imagine what else met the criteria, especially looking at these two. While Yang was gesticulating wildly and laughing, the brunette merely nodded, a thin smile tilting her lips. Yang was all raw power Blake had sinewy grace. While Yang's clothing was simple and direct, Blake's were eye-catching in a more subtle way: A white collared shirt under a curve-hugging black vest, black slacks, tasteful black heels, and an unexpectedly girlish black bow.

The heiress pressed a palm to her forehead to block out… everything. For the past two days every fiber of her being crackled with tension. Literally everything was an irritant, the slightest disturbance enough to make her want to scream.

Suddenly there was a presence at Weiss' side, a cloud of rose petals drifting around her shoulders and dissolving into the air like a mirage. The girl plopped at her side with enough force make the bench scrape forward a few inches, and close enough to brush against Weiss' shoulder if she breathed in deeply.

* * *

"Ruby Rose," her eyes lifted from the yellowed file in her hand. "As in – that's impossible, she didn't have any children."

"It's true you shouldn't believe everything you read, but do you think I would lie to you, Miss Schnee?" Ozpin took a sip of his coffee, peering over his glasses with that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

"I must say I'm surprised the public didn't make the connection; it was quite the scandal when she died. Though Summer was always… particular about her private life. I suppose more people knew the Jaeger than the pilot. Argent Herald does have a ring to it."

* * *

There were hours upon hours of new reels of the sisters dating from the day they were inducted five years ago - Ruby at a mere sixteen years old.

Film didn't do her justice.

Her eyes were softer in person, more dove grey than the harsh silver of the newsreels. The lack of a uniform only softened her edges; a black skirt edged in red lace peeked from under a red hooded cloak worn to softness. Her bare feet made barely a whisper on the stone floor, showing her sister's flagrant disrespect for the winter chill.

The was a smudge of oil across her nose.

"H-hey, Weiss." Ruby fideted under her scrutiny and rubbed at the back of her neck with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry for not meeting you sooner, nobody told me you were coming today, and Crescent needed some work done and there was nobody else who could do it, she doesn't like anyone except me and Yang handling her, you know, and –"

Too much movement, too much noise, the pitch of her voice grating over Weiss' eardrums like metal against bone. Weiss waved away an errant rose petal and snapped. "Do you have no control over your aura at all?"

The babbling was blissfully cut off, but Ruby scrunched down like a kicked dog and Weiss felt every breath of extra distance between them like an accusation. Her chest panged. Damn it. She knew better than this, they could have waited until tomorrow morning, when her nerves weren't already scraped raw.

Weiss huffed and rested her chin on a fist, averting her gaze from Ruby's attempt to hide her hurt, Yang's (literally) smoldering glare, and Blake's dawning amusement. Her face felt hot and her gut twisted.

"My apologies, Miss Rose, my travels have been… trying. I'm sure you can imagine."

She chanced a furtive glance to gauge how her apology was received, and was surprised to discover the girl's expression lifted. Like a lightswitch being flipped. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disturbed. Ruby was already waving comically as if to shoo away the notion that she would hold a grudge.

"Ah – no, no, don't worry about it. We all have our off days. Don't we, Yang?"

Yang's expression was still creased with pure contempt, her fists clenching and unclenching on the edge of the table, the plastic warping just slightly under her fingers. She snorted a little gout of smoke and sparks before subsiding, and Weiss was thoroughly reminded that Yang had an arrest sheet as long as her arm.

Evidently Ruby's train of thought was similar.

"If you're almost done, I can show you our room. I bet you're really tired."

Our room?

* * *

The walk was long, silent, and exceedingly awkward.

"Well, this used to be a school you know? There aren't enough dorms for all the staff to have their own rooms, and Professor Ozpin doesn't want to show favoritism."

Ruby opened the door and ushered Weiss into a room that was scarcely big enough for the bunk beds set against each wall. To her right every inch of cinderblock was plastered with posters ranging from rock bands to sporty cars, while to the left there were bulletin and white boards covered with diagrams and unintelligible scrawl. In either case only slivers of white peeked between.

The floor wasn't much better. Books overran their shelves and spilled into the floor, surrounding the two bottom bunks in tottering piles that could only be navigated by little footpaths. At least they had the good grace to leave the area nearest to the door clear.

The alcove at the end of Blake's bunk had been converted to a little reading area, separated from the rest of the room by a strategically placed bookshelf – softened with a shaggy rug that had seen better days, a reading lamp, and the biggest beanbag Weiss had ever seen.

Ruby cleared her throat. "Uh… the bathroom's to your left. You probably want to freshen up, right?"

The girl was nearly a full foot taller than Weiss, but she had a way of ducking her head that made it almost impossible to avoid her eyes. Weiss looked away, focusing instead on the white-tiled bathroom, and most importantly, the shower.

"Thank you. You're right." She answered finally.

* * *

When Weiss finally got out of the shower her roomates were already in the room, and she was feeling somewhat more human. Like the others, she had left her hair down and changed into her nightgown.

Yang was sprawled on beanbag, with Blake facing away but deigning to press her back to the blonde's side and prop her head on one broad shoulder. Blake's attention was on the book propped on her drawn-up knees, but her aura of tolerating the closeness was marred by the arm wound around her waist. Her free hand was toying with Yang's fingers.

On the other hand Ruby was flopped belly first on the rug, tucked underneath Yang's knees like a leg rest. She had at least three tablets spread in front of her, and was the very picture of a kid with a bunch of coloring books. Except that two had blueprints scrolling across the screens and the other was being used to scribble notes.

It was so domestic she could puke, if ladies did such things.

"The bunk on the bottom left is yours." Ruby said, glancing up from her work to flash Weiss a tentative smile.

Someone had made the bed for her. Weiss almost said something, but instead she closed her mouth and swallowed down the lump in her throat. She slipped into the bunk and pulled the curtain closed, throwing her little space into almost-darkness.

From here Weiss could hear Yang humming along with the music from her earbuds, the occasional indistinct lyric wound into the mix. Her voice did have a pleasant tone, though

Weiss suspected her range needed… a lot of work…

The low voices lulled her to sleep.


End file.
